Luyện nghe bài hát House Of Shame

There's unusual about the way my day begins
As I up and down the streets with my mailpouch in my hands
run this route for years everybody knows my name
Especially at the old folks home which I call the House of
The old folks home is my stop that's where I end my daily rout
And my mailpouch is usually by then not always but just about
Except for an accosional letter and they all anxiously
With sad eyes that the question is there anything for me
And I hear their trembling voices as talk back and forth
I the children're just too busy to write
They've got a lot of to do of course
And I try to cheer 'em up and say things to 'em feel better
Then I think to myself just how little effort it to write a letter
old and wrinkled faces and hair as white as snow
And memories locked up in their minds that only they know
I many hours there at the end of each day's run
Trying in way to fill the place of a daughter or a son
And I listen as they tell me of their families of days by
And the sadness at times is so great I can't help but cry
And thought it's reality it seems like a dream
That some of them have grandchildren that they've even seen
And I think it's just a shame children they have raised
put 'em in this House of Shame to spend their later days
So they sit just waitin' waitin' for letters they never get
Waitin' for children that come by waitin' just waitin' to die
You see my folks are old now too and we've put 'em in a
But the is they live with us and they'll never be alone